


Professor Ratliff

by urethra_franklin



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urethra_franklin/pseuds/urethra_franklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam's a junior in college who's majoring in Literature, specifically modern poetry. He's extremely shy, so when his literature professor says that participating in class discussion will be a part of the grade, he's forced to either come out of his shell or let his grade drop. What will happen when Mr. Ratliff, his literature professor, sees him struggling and decides to help?</p>
<p>(What even are these descriptions. I don't know how to write these.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Welcome to Literature 1102. I’m Mr. Ratliff. We’ll be doing a lot of discussion about fiction, poetry, and drama in this class so I want you to get comfortable with talking openly with everyone in the class, including me. It’s a large part of your grade. The rest of your grade will come from your essays which we’ll talk about in the future. Everybody cool?”

“Yeah,” the class replied, except for one student who sat near the back and kept his head down.

“What about you in the back?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

“Hmm? Me? Oh, uh, yeah.” Adam said, his voice cracking with embarrassment.

“Good. Well alright guys, let’s get started by talking about what you’ll be reading in these coming weeks of class, and how we’ll discuss things and whatnot. First we’ll be reading from the fiction section of your textbook and we’ll be talking about characters, meaning, and going into a lot of detail about the works that I’ve chosen. You need to read them thoroughly and maybe even read them twice to try and understand what’s going on. When you get to class next week, the first question I’ll always ask is ‘What did you think of it?’ and I want to hear lots of responses. Tell me what you liked about it and what you didn’t like about it. Then we’ll go into more detail and let the conversation take over.” Professor Ratliff continued, “If you aren’t participating in the discussion, I’ll assume that you didn’t read and will consequently lower your grade. But, this class is going to be fun. I want you to enjoy yourself while reading and get something out of each piece. If you guys are reading, the discussions will be fun.”

“So, are the stories, like, boring stuff though?” A student asked.

“Boring? You’ll soon find out. Next week’s theme is fucked up romances. Does that sound boring to you? And why would I choose boring things to discuss during class? I told you guys, this is going to be fun if you actually participate.”  Mr. Ratliff answered.

“Alright, Alright. I guess I’ll trust you on that, Mr. Ratliff,” the same student replid.

“Good. Now, let me explain another thing that we’ll be doing during this class. You should bring in a notebook of some kind and have it ready at the beginning of each class because you’ll be writing. I’ll have a picture or a quote or some other prompt up on the screen, and you’ll have five minutes to get down anything and everything that comes into your mind about it. I want it to be like a stream of consciousness. If you have nothing to write, just write ‘I have nothing left to write now.’ And then continue writing whatever pops into your mind. If a picture reminds you of something, write it down. If a quote says something to you, write it down. You’ll be turning in this notebook at the end of the semester as a part of your final grade, so if you are here for all of them and actually write something, you’ll get a 100. After you are finished writing, we’ll discuss it and see what you guys came up with. Actually, we can do a practice one now. Everybody got paper?” Professor Ratliff asked.

Those who had paper got it out and shared with those who didn’t. Everyone looked a little nervous, like they didn’t know what to do or what to expect. Mr. Ratliff pulled up a question, “If you could change one thing about this class, what would it be?”

“Start writing,” Mr. Ratliff said as he sat down on his stool at the front of the class.

Some started jotting things down left and right; some did not write at all. “Goodness, how long is five minutes? I have nothing left to write!” Adam thought to himself as he wrote down that he had nothing left to write. He decided to stop there. He looked back at what he had written down, “I’d make it so that the discussions weren’t a part of the grade, and make writing poetry a part of the grade since I am actually decent at that.” He didn’t think he’d written enough down, but then the five minutes were over.

“Alright, put down your pens. What did you guys write down? Anybody?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

“I wrote that I’d make it so that the essays didn’t count as much towards the grade and the discussions counted more,” some girl with long brown hair said.

“What?” Adam accidentally said out loud.

“Why do you oppose that? What did you write down?” Mr. Ratliff asked the now very embarrassed Adam.

“Uhh,” Adam cleared his throat, “I, uh. I wrote that, uh, I wanted the discussions to count less towards the grade.” Adam answered shakily.

“And why is that?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

“I, uh, I don’t like talking during discussions.” Adam answered, his voice growing increasingly shaky.

“Okay, nervousness. I can see that. But, most if not all of you will have to speak to important people or at least in front of people later in college, if not in your careers.” Professor Ratliff rebutted.

“I think the discussions will be fun, to be completely honest. I just wish we didn’t have to do poetry,” said some other girl with blonde hair.

“No poetry?” Adam accidentally said out loud again, this time quieter, but Mr. Ratliff must have heard him anyway.

“You seem to have a lot to say for not wanting to participate in the discussions. Why do you object to taking out poetry?” Mr. Ratliff said, raising a brow.

“Uh. Well, I, uh, just really enjoy poetry, I guess,” Adam said, his brow starting to sweat.

“Alright, then what about you,” Mr. Ratliff said, pointing back to the blonde, “Why do you want to take poetry out?”

“Well, I’ve read it before, but I can never understand what any of it means. There’s always some bullshit deeper meaning that I never get,” she replied, and the class agreed.

“Ah, so you’re worried about understanding it? Aren’t all subjects a bit hard to understand until you study them further? In this class, you’ll learn how to read poetry and see the small details that are sometimes overlooked. And, let me just let you all in on something, sometimes there is no bullshit deeper meaning.” Mr. Ratliff replied. “Oh, it seems we’ve run out of time. Please leave your journal sheets up here, and I’ll see you all next week. Don’t forget to read those short fiction stories on the syllabus!” he continued as the class got up to leave.

When Adam got to the front of the class to set his journal sheet down, Mr. Ratliff stopped him and put a hand on his arm, “Hey, you don’t have to be so nervous. The discussions will be fun as they keep going and more people join in. Sooner or later it will be like talking to your friends.”

Adam just stood there, mouth agape, then pulled his arm back to leave.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Mr. Ratliff said to him before he left the classroom.

“Um, Adam,” he said as he left the classroom.

“Adam, huh.” Mr. Ratliff said to himself once he was alone. He picked up the stack of journal sheets and saw Adam’s on top. “‘…make writing poetry a part of the grade since I am actually decent at that.’?” Mr. Ratliff thought, “He writes poetry? Hmm.”


	2. Chapter 2

Adam drove home to his small apartment, worry running through his mind. “I am going to hate this literature class! It’s my major, and I hate the fucking class,” Adam thought. “What am I going to do? I guess I’ll just let my grades drop. Fuck this class. Why am I always so shy? No to mention… Mr. Ratliff is kinda hot, and that just makes me more nervous!”

After seemingly no time at all, it was Friday again, literature day. Adam decided to bring his notebook and just write during the discussions. He’d read the short fiction stories and had some things to say about them, but he knew he’d just choke in the middle of trying to speak. He walked into class and all of the female students were gathered together at a table, gabbing about something.

“He is sooooo gorgeous!” Adam heard one girl say.

“I know! But I heard that he’s gay. How disappointing is that?” Adam heard another girl exclaim.

“What in the world are they talking about? Who’s gorgeous and gay?” Adam thought as he took a seat in the last row.

“Really? Where did you hear that?” the girl with the long brown hair said.

“A friend of a friend said she saw him at a gay bar,” the other girl replied.

“Well that doesn't make him gay. He could be… bisexual?” the brown haired girl said hopefully.

“I guess it’s worth a shot. I heard he’s only twenty four. May the best man – I mean girl – win?” the blonde girl asked.

Just then Mr. Ratliff walked into the classroom, “Why are you girls all huddled together like you’re making a game plan or something? I hope it’s because you’re discussing the short stories and not guys or something like that. Although it is fucked up romance week, so you could be doing both.”

“Of course we were just talking about the stories!” the blonde haired girl replied, “What were we supposed to read…?” She whispered to one of the other girls in the group.

“I heard that. You won’t be doing well in this class if you don’t read prior to class. I hate it when people don’t even try to participate,” Mr. Ratliff said.

Then, the girls got quiet. They all got out their books and tried to read the stories as quickly as possible, but class was only a few minutes away from starting.

“Alright guys, let’s start. Get out your journals or some notebook paper and we’ll start your first official journal entry,” Mr. Ratliff said as he pulled up a question.

“What was one thing that you related to in ‘Ranch Girl’? Did you relate to any particular character or situation? Why or why not?” came up on the screen.

“Alright, start writing.” Mr. Ratliff said.

Adam thought for a moment. He’d read the story, but didn’t really have anything that he related to. He felt for the one character, Lacey, because the ranch girl thought she was a slut without really knowing anything about her. He thought he’d write about that. “I didn’t relate to anything, but I felt for Lacey. The ranch girl didn’t know much about her at all, yet she assumed that she was a slut. Lacey was really only with one guy. I guess I could kind of relate to that in the sense that people often assume that gay people have more sex than straight people, even though I’ve only ever been in committed, monogamous relationships,” Adam wrote.

“Alright, time’s up. So what did you guys write down? What did you relate to in the story?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

No hands got raised. It seemed as if nobody had actually read “Ranch Girl” so they all had nothing to say. The class was silent.

“Really. Really? Did you all just not even read the assignment? You realize that you’re in a LITERATURE class, right?” Mr. Ratliff asked, getting louder and seemingly more upset as he went on.

“Uh, well. I uh, I read it.” Adam said quietly.

“Oh did you?” Mr. Ratliff asked incredulously.

“Yes, um. I uh, I wrote that I related to – to – uh, to Lacey in the story,” Adam said, his voice shaking and his face going red.

“Okay, seems you did read it. Why did you relate to her? She was only a small character in the story,” Mr. Ratliff asked, calming down as he spoke with Adam.

“Well, I, uh, I guess because the ranch girl really didn’t – she didn’t know anything about Lacey and uh, she thought she was a slut.” Adam managed to force out.

“And what did you relate to about that?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

“I – I – just… I thought about how a lot of people think that gay people have a lot of sex even though, uh, they might be in monogamous relationships. People just – they make a lot of, um, assumptions.” Adam said, his voice becoming a bit more confident.

“That’s a good point to bring up. Assumptions can be hurtful. And if any of you had read the story, you’d know that it was a huge part of the story. The ranch girl made these assumptions about Lacey after seeing her go home with Andy. She didn’t see them have sex, yet throughout the rest of the story, it’s clear that the ranch girl hates Lacey for sleeping with the guy that she loved. Anyway, you guys will have to read it to see what I’m talking about. This will be on our fiction exam at the end of this section so you guys are responsible for figuring this story out.” Mr. Ratliff said.

“Really? A fiction exam?” one of the girls groaned.

“Yes, a fiction exam. You don’t think I’d just have you read and discuss stories and then not test you over them, did you? I’ve got to have some way to keep you accountable and make you more motivated to actually read the damn stories.” Mr. Ratliff returned.

Then Mr. Ratliff taught a lesson on essays, just reviewing how to write, and how he’ll grade them. Then, class was over and he dismissed the students. “Seriously guys, don’t forget to read the two short stories for next week. I want more people involved in next week’s discussion,” Mr. Ratliff said.

“Hey, wait, Adam!” Mr. Ratliff called after Adam as they walked down the hallway, “Thanks for actually reading what I assigned. You shouldn’t be so shy. You had really good ideas about the story, especially connecting it to something personal that people can relate to, or at least I relate to. That was the point of the question, anyway. Keep up the good work.” Mr. Ratliff said when he caught up to Adam.

“Oh, uh, no problem. I uh, I enjoy literature. I’d rather be reading poetry, but this is good, I – I mean the short fiction. I like this – it.” Adam said nervously.

“Good. You seem very intelligent. Try and break out of your shell! I like hearing your ideas in class. Anyway, see you next week, Adam.” Mr. Ratliff encouraged.

“Yeah, see ya then.” Adam said, blushing as he walked away to his car.

Once he got to his car, he drove home, his mind spinning again. “What is going on? He makes me so nervous. And that isn’t going to help me with discussions in class if I’m already shy about talking, now he’s just… What am I even thinking? I don’t even know if he’s gay. Well, he did say something about relating to what I said in class. Maybe those girls were right. No! He’s my teacher! I cannot have a crush on my teacher! What the hell,” Adam thought.

Mr. Ratliff made his way to his car, lost in thought, “I hope this class comes around and starts reading and participating. At least Adam’s into it – the reading. Shit, I can’t think about him like that. I’m his teacher, for god’s sake! Fuck, being a teacher is harder than I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapters are short. There will be a lot of chapters; I just want to post what I can so you guys don't have to wait too long to read. They'll be longer chapters in the up coming week since I'll be on spring break. I'll do my best to balance writing this and doing work for my college classes. Hope you guys enjoy :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Friday again? I don’t know whether to look forward to this class or to dread it.” Adam thought as he got ready to go to literature class. He spent longer on his hair and even put a little eyeliner on, yet he didn’t know why. He left his apartment and drove to the college just down the road.

When he got to class, Mr. Ratliff was already there. Two girls were hovering around his desk, trying desperately to keep his attention. Mr. Ratliff only just acknowledged them, then asked them to take a seat because class was starting.  Adam sat in the last row, as usual.

“Alright guys, I hope you read the stories this week because we are having a pop quiz.” Mr. Ratliff said. The class groaned, some freaking out as they obviously had not read. Mr. Ratliff passed out the quizzes, and when he came to Adam’s row, he said, “Good Luck.” Adam felt as if it were only directed at him, but he knew he was probably wrong.

Adam had again read the stories, so he had no trouble answering the questions on the pop quiz. He checked over his answers and knew he’d gotten them all correct. Then, Mr. Ratliff called for the quizzes to be turned in.

“I hope you guys actually read the stories, because these were some really simple questions. It should have been an easy “A” for this class. Speaking of having actually read the stories – that will be your question for your journal entry today. Get out your journals. Here’s the question, ‘Did you read the assignments? Why? Or Why not?’”

Adam got out his journal. He didn’t think he had much to write so he started, “I read the assignments because they were assigned and because I want to get a good grade on the fiction exam.” He didn’t know what else to write. He thought for a moment, then wrote, “Well, I did actually enjoy reading them. So, I guess another reason that I read was because I care about literature and actually enjoy reading.” Then, the time was up and Mr. Ratliff opened the floor for discussion.

“Alright, what did you write this time around?” Mr. Ratliff asked. A couple of hands went up; their answers were that they didn’t read because they didn’t have time or because they forgot. A few said that they read just because it was assigned. Adam just stayed quiet and let everyone else answer, not even having the courage to raise his hand.

Then one of the girls who hovered around him at the beginning of class shot her hand up and said, “I read them because I just looove reading so much. They were such interesting stories, Mr. Ratliff. I just have such a desire to learn more,” she said with her voice becoming disgustingly seductive.

“Really? Because I just graded your pop quiz during the five minute journal entry, and we both know that’s bullshit,” Mr. Ratliff shot back, knowing what she was trying to do. She turned red and huffed. The rest of the class erupted in laughter. “Alright, alright, guys. Enough. I asked you that question because I wanted honest answers. I’ll know whether you lied or not based on your pop quiz scores, so I hope you didn’t lie.” Mr. Ratliff said.

Then Mr. Ratliff started the discussion about the stories, and the people who had read, which were far more than last week, jumped in and added comments about what they thought and what they liked. Adam felt intimidated not only by everyone else who started participating, but also by Mr. Ratliff’s presence. So, Adam just held back and became more and more shy as time went on.

Sooner or later the entire class time had gone bye and Adam hadn’t said a word. He got up to leave and walked to the door, but a hand of his forearm held him back. “Adam. Don’t go yet. I need to speak with you.” Mr. Ratliff said. Adam turned around and followed Mr. Ratliff back over to his desk. Mr. Ratliff leaned against the front of the desk and crossed his arms, “So how are you?”

“I’m just fine, thanks,” Adam replied nervously.

“Good. How are you enjoying the class? Do you like the stories I’m assigning?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

“I really like the class, and um, the stories are, um, interesting. I wish we could fast forward to poetry, though.” Adam replied, never looking Mr. Ratliff directly in the eyes.

“Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. How come you didn’t say anything during the discussions today? I didn’t get to hear any of your insight.”

“Oh, well, um. I just – I – I don’t know.” Adam said, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Look at me,” Mr. Ratliff said, and Adam looked up. “You are having a conversation with me just fine right now. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to speak up during class. Just – just pretend you’re having a conversation with only me. Ignore the other students – well, listen to what they have to say – but really, just focus on me,” Mr. Ratliff said, laying a hand on Adam’s arm.

Adam just stared blankly into Mr. Ratliff’s eyes. It was the first time he’d really looked at them; they were a warm brown, and was that eyeliner on the lids that he saw? Then, Mr. Ratliff cleared his throat and took his hand back, and Adam snapped back into reality. “Um, yeah, I’ll try that,” Adam managed out while his heart skipped a beat. Then Adam turned and left the classroom quickly, rubbing his hand over where Mr. Ratliff’s had been.

“See you next week!” Mr. Ratliff called after Adam. “Oh my god, what just happened?” Mr. Ratliff thought, “What am I even thinking trying to help this guy out? What am I doing?” He put a hand over his face and let his thoughts go. “I really want to help him out, and I don’t even know why…” He stood up from the desk and paced around the room, “Was he wearing eyeliner? I don’t understand how someone that gorgeous can be that shy! …Did I really just think about a student being gorgeous? What am I doing…”

Adam rushed down to his car and slammed the door when he got in. “Fuck!” he yelled. “I cannot be crushing on a professor! I just got caught staring dreamily into his eyes for fucks sake!” he thought, putting his head down against the wheel. “Fuck. He is so good looking, though. That is so not going to help me participate in class if the whole time I’m just daydreaming about his gorgeous eyes and oh my god his eyeliner. He was wearing eyeliner! Why does he have to be my professor? Just… fuck.” Adam thought. He started his car and drove to his apartment as fast as he could just wanting to get away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to post daily for the next week or so, because I'll be on spring break. The chapters will get longer, I promise. Hope you guys are enjoying it! I really love writing shy Adam. He's so cute. And, don't worry, things will heat up eventually, I just got lead up to it with lots and lots of plot... It'll be good. I have a lot planned for this, and I keep coming up with more. I think I'll be able to write and post chapter 4 today as well. We'll see. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: panic attacks/anxiety attacks/anxiety

The next week, Adam woke up again not knowing whether to dread or look forward to literature class. He remembered back to last week and thought about what Mr. Ratliff had said, “Just focus on me.”

“How can I focus on him when he makes my heart jump and my face go red? How can I even look him in the eye again after what happened last week? Why does he want to help me? Aren’t professors supposed to not care about the students? The way he looked at me, though…” he questioned to himself as he unknowingly did his hair and put on a little more eyeliner than usual. “Shit. I put on way too much. Now he’ll think I’m just like one of those girls trying to get his attention.”

He didn’t have enough time to fix it, so he left for class. During the drive, he mulled over what he would do in class. He wanted to impress Mr. Ratliff, but he seriously did not want to act like those girls, drooling over him. “What is wrong with them? Can’t they see that that is not even the least bit attractive? Well, I wouldn’t be attracted to them anyway, so I suppose I know nothing about the attractiveness of females,” he laughed to himself. “Maybe I should just follow his advice, no matter how embarrassing it is. I do enjoy just focusing on him; I just have no idea how to form coherent sentences when I’m around him.”

Adam pulled into the college parking lot and walked to his class. When he arrived, Mr. Ratliff’s satellites – that’s what he’d decided to call them since they did nothing but hover around him – were right where he’d expected they’d be. Today, Adam took a seat closer to the middle of the classroom so he’d be able to see Mr. Ratliff better, or at least that’s how he rationalized the decision.

“Alright, take your seats, ladies. It’s time for class to begin,” Mr. Ratliff said as he shooed away his satellites. “Get out your notebooks and get ready to write, because this week’s prompt is a little different.” Then, Mr. Ratliff pulled up the prompt on the screen. It read, “Pick a character from ‘A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings: A Tale for Children’ and write the best character description of them that you can in five minutes. GO!”

Adam knew immediately who he wanted to write about, so he began, “The man with the enormous wings was found in the mud. He was broken and decrepit, yet the people assumed he was an angel; others assumed he was a demon; everyone had an assumption about him. They tied him up like an animal and kept him on display for the town to throw things at him. I think he represented any kind of new comer to a town – anyone that doesn’t fit the social norm. We immediately outcast people for being different, and then put labels on them based on what we can immediately see. We never even give them a chance to speak before we’ve made assumptions and socially tied them up.”

Then, the time was up, and Adam began to sweat and the inner turmoil began, “Do I raise my hand, or do I just stay quiet again?” Mr. Ratliff opened the floor for discussion, and those who read the story brought up different characters, giving good and bad descriptions of them. In between answers, Mr. Ratliff would give Adam hopeful looks, as if he were begging him to raise his hand. Feeling the weight of Mr. Ratliff’s gaze, Adam mustered up the courage to raise his hand.

“Yes, Adam?” Mr. Ratliff said too enthusiastically. Adam took a deep breath and looked Mr. Ratliff directly in the eyes. He knew what he wanted to say; he just didn’t know how to say it. He focused on Mr. Ratliff intently, trying not to think about how gorgeous his eyes were or how perfect his hair looked. Then, someone cleared their throat, and he realized he’d been just staring with his mouth wide open again.

“Um, well,” Adam started, “I wrote about the man with the enormous wings. He was, um, decrepit and disgusting to the people, but they um, they still thought he was an angel. They put a label on him before even asking him who he was or how he got there. Then they tied him up like a circus animal. He represents anybody who doesn’t fit into the norm, and how, um, people will just treat you like shit when they don’t know anything about you,” Adam said more clearly and with more conviction than he’d ever spoken.

The smile on Mr. Ratliff’s face lit up as Adam spoke. “Wonderful insight, Adam. I’m impressed. So, class, why do you think the town people immediately labeled him as an angel, but then tied him up? Do you agree with Adam?” Mr. Ratliff asked.

Adam barely listened to the class’s responses because he mentally shrank back into himself. He was shocked at how confidently he’d spoken, but he immediately went back over every word he’d said, scrutinizing each of his word choices and becoming increasingly anxious over it. He couldn’t get past how he’d just stared at Mr. Ratliff again, but this time in front of the entire class.  

Mr. Ratliff noticed the pained look on Adam’s face and wondered if he’d pushed him too far. He could tell that Adam was struggling internally over having just spoken again in front of the class. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to push him to come out of his shell,” Mr. Ratliff thought, then continued with the class. When the discussion was over, Mr. Ratliff announced that today he’d be assigning the fiction essay.

“Alright guys, the fiction essay is really not that difficult. I want you to pick out one of the stories that we’ve read and write a critical analysis of it. You can analyze a character, a theme, the structure, or you could even compare and contrast two similar stories, or you could do a combination of any of these. I want to see that you are reading into the material and understanding it. Whatever you see in the text is actually there. This essay will by about you explaining what you see in the theme or the characters or any of the other prompts, then giving the evidence from the text,” Mr. Ratliff explained as he handed out the instruction sheets for the essay. “If you have any questions, go ahead and ask them now.”

He rushed through the questions because he could see the anxiety growing in Adam. Adam was now gripping the desk, his breathing growing unsteady. He looked like he was about to pass out. Mr. Ratliff hurriedly dismissed the class and as soon as everyone had left, he rushed over to Adam’s side. Adam had stressed himself into a full on panic attack. He was breathing heavily and starting to cry. Mr. Ratliff tried to calm him, “Adam, it’s okay. I’m right here. You’re fine. Everybody else is gone. You’re going to be okay. You’ll get through this. Just breathe with me,” he quietly soothed.

Adam nodded and tried to get his breathing back to normal but the tears just kept on falling and his breathing pattern only worsened. “Adam, it’s okay. It’ll be over really soon. Is it okay if I take your hand?” Mr. Ratliff asked quietly. Adam, with his eyes still firmly shut and eyeliner running down his face, nodded again. Mr. Ratliff took Adam’s hand in his and just held on to him. “I’m right here. I’ve got you. I won’t let this happen again,” he said as Adam clutched his hand and brought it closer to his chest.

After a few minutes, Adam’s breathing finally started to slow. “Adam, are you okay? Is there anything that I can do?” Mr. Ratliff asked in a hushed tone. Adam shook his head and continued calming down from his panic attack. He’d had them before, but never in public; he’d always been able to avoid them and calm down enough to not have one in public. “Adam, stop thinking about it. It’s okay. Nobody else saw this but me. I’m not judging you. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

Adam finally opened his eyes and saw how worried Mr. Ratliff was. Then, he realized that he was still clutching his hand to his chest, so he quickly let go. He wiped his eyes and covered his face in embarrassment. “No, Adam, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s not your fault. I won’t push you to talk during the discussions anymore.” Mr. Ratliff said while placing his hand back over Adam’s.

“I’m okay. You didn’t have to help me. It’s not your fault either.” Adam managed through snuffles and haggard breaths. 

“Adam, I want to help you. I don’t even know why, but I do. I guess I see something in you that I don’t see in any of the other students. You have real potential. I see how much you love literature, and I just… I don’t know… I want to help you. I wanted to be by your side through that.” Mr. Ratliff replied, still speaking quietly.

“I know. I know you want to help. I just, I don’t know how to take that help. I – I just can’t talk during class without getting worked up about it, and then you – you’re so, so goddamn intimidating, and I can’t talk to you without getting lost.” Adam said, burying his face in his hands.

“I’m intimidating? Shit, I’m really not trying to be. I can’t even be more than a couple of years older than you. I just really want you to succeed. Would you look at me, please?” Mr. Ratliff said, still keeping his voice down.

Adam looked up at him. There was still eyeliner stained under his eyes, so Mr. Ratliff reached a hand up to wipe it away. Adam flinched a little, but then took a deep breath and closed his eyes and let Mr. Ratliff clean up his eyes. “Thank you,” Adam breathed.

“You’re welcome. It’s nothing really.” Mr. Ratliff replied.

“No, I mean – I mean for everything that you’ve done for me. You’re a great professor.” Adam said, opening his eyes to look at Mr. Ratliff directly.

“It’s no problem. Really. I – I do want to help you out. I know I probably shouldn’t be doing this since I’m your professor, but I don’t care. I couldn’t just leave you hanging. I care about you,” Mr. Ratliff replied, “Now, um, do you think you’ll be able to get home okay? I could drive you if you don’t think you can drive after all, well you know.”

“I think I’ll be okay. Um, thanks for the, uh, offer, though. I’m gonna go home and clean myself up, and just, yeah. But thanks, really. I appreciate all of this. I’m sorry you had to see all that…” Adam said.

“It’s fine, Adam. If you weren’t my student… Uh well, never mind. Drive safely, okay?” Mr. Ratliff said as he gave Adam a hand to help him up.

“I will. See you next week?” Adam said, walking to the door.

“Yeah, see you then.” Mr. Ratliff said, smiling at Adam.

“Thanks again.” Adam said, smiling back as he left the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know that I was going to take the story this way, but it felt right as I was writing it. I wrote the panic attack scene from experience (well, not the part with Mr. Ratliff comforting me), but that's how my panic attacks are. (I have a diagnosed panic disorder.) I tried to write it as accurately as possible... and it was extremely difficult to write, that's why I'm posting so late (it's almost 2am where I am). 
> 
> Anyway, I put the trigger warning at the beginning of this chapter because it's not in the story's tags yet because I wasn't expecting to take it in this direction, but I did. Blah blah blah -- I hope you're enjoying it. And please do leave constructive criticism in the comments because it either helps me or genuinely entertains me, so keep doing it!


	5. Chapter 5

Adam drove home slowly and carefully, minding what Mr. Ratliff said. When he made it home, he decided to have a nice, long bath to clear his mind. He ran a bath, undressed, and got in, letting his head fall back and relaxing into the warm water. He took a deep breath and let himself and his thoughts go for a moment. He let himself focus on how it felt to breathe, how the warm water felt on his skin, how the steam rose from the water. It was good to just feel something.

He closed his eyes and continued breathing. Subconsciously, his mind wandered to Mr. Ratliff. He remembered how his skin lit up each time Mr. Ratliff’s hand met it. He thought about how it felt to have his hand strongly grasping his own. It was comforting to know that someone actually cared, that someone actually noticed him. He wanted more of that. He wanted to be comfortable around Mr. Ratliff. He wanted to accept the help and be more confident.

After a while, the water grew cold, so Adam got out of the tub and dried off. He settled into bed with a pen and his journal and decided to write. He started writing a poem, just getting his feelings out on paper. When he finished writing, he thought about calling Mr. Ratliff to let him know he’d gotten home okay and was doing fine, but it was too late and he wouldn’t be in his office now. He decided he might call him tomorrow. He had a strange desire to hear his voice again, so he put his journal away and turned out the lights, and slept on it.

Mr. Ratliff stayed in the classroom for a moment after Adam left. He needed a few seconds to breathe as well. He collected himself and his things and went to his car. He put his head down on the steering wheel and shouted, “Fucking fuck! I am such an asshole! That was all my fault! What the fuck am I doing?” He was so angry with himself that he slammed his hands down on the steering wheel and started to tear up. “Shit. I shouldn’t be getting this upset. He’s just a student! What am I saying? Fuck, I know he’s not just a student anymore. I have way too much invested in this… Fuck, I just want him to be okay. I hope he got home alright. Fuck, fuck, fuck… Why did I let him drive home alone? What if he’s not okay?” Mr. Ratliff was so upset that he didn’t realize he was talking to himself. He turned on the car and blasted some Manson and drove home.

When he got home, he opened his student files to see if Adam’s information was in there. He had to call him to see if he was okay. He didn’t want Adam to make any stupid decisions. He found a phone number in the files; he knew he technically wasn’t allowed to do this, but he called Adam from his cell, “Shit no answer,” Mr. Ratliff thought. It went to Adam’s voice mail. “Hey, Adam, um, it’s Tommy – Shit, I mean Mr. Ratliff. I just wanted to know if you got home safely. I needed to check up on you; I don’t want you doing anything crazy. Not that you’re crazy or anything – you’re not! I mean, just, after all you went through today, and since it was my fault, I had to make sure that you’re okay. Please give me a call? I called from my cellphone, so it’s fine if you just call me back on this number. I hope you’re okay. Bye, Adam.”

When Mr. Ratliff hung up, he threw the phone down on his bed and yelled, “FUCK! Why didn’t he answer?” He let every awful thought of what might have happened go through his mind as he paced his room. “This is all my fault… I’m such a shitty professor. I never should have pushed him. When he said that he didn’t want to talk in front of people, I should have respected that. Why did I even make that a part of the grade? Fuck me, I’m such an asshole!”

He knew he was getting way too worked up, so he tried to take a deep breath and calm down. He needed to get his mind off everything, so he picked up his guitar and played until his mind was clear. At first, his playing was angry and loud, but as the night went on, it became softer and he sat down. He played whatever songs popped into his mind. And when he ran out of songs to play, he decided to just play whatever felt right. He ended up liking what he heard, so he wrote it all down. Before he even realized it, he had written almost an entire song.

He looked over at the clock on his nightstand, “8:47 A.M.” He had played all night. He really didn’t want to mess up his sleeping schedule by sleeping all day, so he decided to make a pot of coffee and stay up.  He checked his phone, still no call from back from Adam. He decided to wait a while, then maybe call him again. He was far too worried about him.

When Adam woke up, he checked his phone and saw the missed call. “Who called me?” Adam yawned. He called his voicemail and listened to the message. “Mr. Ratliff called me? How’d he even get my number? Shit, he sounded worried. I should probably call him back.” First, he saved Mr. Ratliff’s number in his phone, then called him back. “Shit, it’s only nine. I hope I don’t wake him up.” Adam thought as it rang.

Mr. Ratliff scrambled to answer his phone, almost knocking over his cup of coffee, “Hello? Adam? Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“Mr. Ratliff, yeah, hi. I’m okay. Did I – uh, did I wake you up?” Adam replied.

“No, no, actually I didn’t ever go to bed, but that’s beside the point. Are you sure you’re okay? I got worried when you didn’t answer last night. I just automatically thought the worst.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not perfectly okay, but I’m doing much better. I took a lot of time to think things over last night and just relax. I’m really sorry I didn’t answer, I was probably still in the bath or writing or something…”

Mr. Ratliff accidentally imagined Adam in the bath when he said that, “Oh, well, uh,” he cleared his throat and tried to get his mind out of the gutter, “that’s good that you relaxed. I was just really worried. I guess I care a little too much, but that might be a good thing. I don’t know…”

“About that, I’m actually really glad that you care so much. I just moved out here to get my bachelor’s degree, and I don’t really have anyone that I’m this comfortable talking to. I really don’t know anyone here. Anyway, I just – I appreciate that you’re trying to help me. It really wasn’t your fault that I had a panic attack. I want to be more confident, and I think I just panicked when I realized what I was really doing…” 

“Adam, it’s okay. I know I shouldn’t have pushed you that far. You don’t have to talk during the discussions in class ever again if you don’t feel comfortable. That’s just something that you can’t control, and I hadn’t taken that into consideration when I made the discussions a part of the grade. I shouldn’t have been pushing you. I – I feel like my help just did more damage. I’m sorry.”

“No – no you aren’t listening. I want you to help me. You are the first person I’ve trusted in a long time. I don’t care that you’re my professor; besides, professors are supposed to help their students! I just – I want to be more confident. I want to be able to talk to you like this, in person, in front of the class. This is easy because I can’t get caught blushing or staring for too long or choke because I’m embarrassed – but that’s only because we’re on the phone. I want more than that. I want to be able to talk with the rest of the class without seizing up.”

The line was silent for a moment as Mr. Ratliff tried to take everything in. “Adam, I – I don’t know how to give you the help you need, though. I do want to help you more than anything in the world, but I don’t want to push you in the wrong direction and have it end like it did yesterday. I don’t want to see you in pain ever again. I suppose you could practice talking to me – like, I could meet you for coffee and help you with your fiction essay and that could be practice. Or if you don’t feel comfortable in that public of a setting, we could go to a library or perhaps somewhere less crowded. Just – you have to tell me what’s too much and what you need me to do. I’m way too invested to give up on you now, though.”

“Practicing sounds good. I’m comfortable with you, just not in person yet. I think I can handle a coffee shop as long as it’s not too crowded, and I actually did have a few questions for the fiction essay, so you’ll be helping in more ways than one. Where and when should we meet?”

“You sure that’ll be okay? I really don’t want to push you. It is pretty quiet there so if you think you’ll be okay… It’s right down the road from my apartment. I can text you the directions. I’m free all weekend, so whenever you want to go is good with me.”

“Yeah, um, that’s good. I can handle it. How about today, just to get it out of the way – I mean not that I don’t want to do this, I – I do. And not that I just want to get it over with, well I kinda want to get it over with –”

“Adam! It’s cool. Don’t overthink it. How about noon? Is today at noon good for you?”

“Yeah, yeah okay, Mr. Ratliff. Noon it is. I’ll see you then. Don’t forget to send me directions.” Adam giggled.

“See you then. Oh – by the way, just call me Tommy. It’s super weird having people almost my age call me Mr. Ratliff.”

“Okay, Tommy. See you in a bit.”

“Bye,” they said simultaneously before hanging up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I update in the middle of the night, it's just when I do most of my writing. I never knew how much writing would help me. It makes me happy and it helps keep my mind off things. I always feel like I have no time for my life because I'm in college, but somehow I'm finding time to write this, and I'm enjoying myself. I feel like I get to write my own story behind characters and made up situations, and it helps me deal. You have no idea what it means to me that you're enjoying this and that you like my writing. I hope you continue to enjoy it!
> 
> I just got way too deep there. Oh, well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: panic/anxiety attacks, panic/anxiety disorder

Adam hung up the phone and got undressed to take a shower. He put on some music and danced around his bathroom. Once in the shower, he turned the heat up and let the whole bathroom fill with steam. He needed to psych himself up for this meeting with Mr. Ratliff – Tommy. He focused on the music and gave himself a pep talk, “You can do this, Adam. He’s just your professor. He’s trying to help you. It’ll be fine. Just let yourself have fun! Yeah!” He started singing along when “Bohemian Rhapsody” started playing. He knew every word, of course. He washed his hair and the rest of himself, all the while singing as loud as he wanted.

He got out of the shower and left the steam-filled bathroom. He decided to blow dry his hair and style it since he felt good. He left the music on and continued humming and singing while he did his hair. Then he put on some eyeliner and tiny bit of glitter. “Nobody’ll notice that, right?” Adam said to himself. He picked out some skinny jeans and an old band tee and got dressed. “11:40. Perfect timing.” Adam said as he got out his phone. Tommy sent the directions, and they seemed easy enough to follow, so Adam got in his car to go to the coffee shop.

Tommy pushed to end the call, then went and got more coffee. “Shit, I stink. I should probably take a shower.” He got undressed and got in the shower, it was freezing at first, but warmed up quickly. He stood under the water for a while just to warm up. He let out a deep breath and sighed, “Fuck, I’m tired.” He put a hand against the shower wall to hold himself up then closed his eyes. “I hope I don’t fuck this up. I really want to help him; I’m just terrified that I’ll fuck it up again, and he’ll panic. I won’t even mention that it’s practice for him to be more confident and less anxious; I’ll just act like I’m just there to help him with his paper. Yeah. That should work,” Tommy thought.

When Tommy finished in the shower, he got out and still had a lot of time left before he had to leave. He decided to spend extra time on his hair and makeup. He blow-dried his hair, straightened it, and then lined his eyes with black eyeliner. He added some pink lipgloss right before he went out the door. “Fuck, the lipgloss was probably a bad idea. Oh well. Fuck it,” he said as he looked at himself in his rearview mirror. “Shit. Noon already? I’m gonna be late. Fucking perfect.” Tommy said as he pulled out of his apartment complex. He sent Adam a quick text saying that he would be five to ten minutes late depending on traffic.

“Hey, I’m gonna be a few minutes late. Just wait in your car for me.” Adam was already in the parking lot of the coffee shop when he got the text. He decided to just turn up the radio and wait. He tried his best not to get anxious over it. “He’ll be here. He’s just running a few minutes late. It’s fine,” Adam said to himself.

Tommy drove as quickly as he could to the coffee shop. He ended up being about seven minutes late. He saw Adam in his car and pulled into the spot next to his. He waved to Adam, then got out to meet him.

“Oh thank goodness, he’s here. Deep breath. You’re fine. You can do this,” Adam said to himself as he waved back at Tommy. He got out of the car to go inside with Tommy.

“Hey, Adam! Sorry I was a bit late. I took too long with my hair and stuff I guess,” Tommy said as they walked inside.

“So, Mr. Ratli – I mean, Tommy, thanks for coming. I actually do need some help with my fiction essay,” Adam said keeping his eyes to the ground.

“No problem. So, where should we sit? Here good?” Tommy asked, pointing at a small table with two seats facing one another.

“Yeah, here’s perfect. Do you want to get coffee or anything?” Adam asked, just slightly looking up at Tommy, still not looking him in the eyes.

“Nah, I’m good,” Tommy said as he took a seat, “I already drank like six cups this morning. Caffeine junky.” They both laughed.

“I don’t want any either. I can’t handle caffeine; it makes me even more jumpy. Anyway, uh, the paper,” Adam said nervously.

“Yeah, so did you have any ideas for what you want to write about?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, I uh, I want to write something about the character Lacey in ‘Ranch Girl’ and how uh, you know, um, how sex, is uh, treated in the story,” Adam cleared his throat and wiped the sweat that was forming on his brow.

“Okay. That sounds like a fantastic idea. I guess we can get started by prewriting or making an outline. I brought my literature in case you forgot yours, so we can uh, look at the story and figure out how to set up your paper,” Tommy said.

“Okay, so how I even start an outline? Isn’t that just a couple main points then the sub points?” Adam asked, still looking down at his hands and around the coffee shop, anywhere but Tommy’s eyes.

“Yeah, so what goal are you trying to reach with this essay? Do you want to know why the ranch girl treated or, I suppose, thought about Lacey that way? Or just analyze Lacey character? Or a mixture of both? Also, Adam, what color are my eyes?” Tommy asked.

“Brown.” Adam answered without looking up.

“Wait – How did you? I just asked that so you’d look up. How did you already know my eye color?”

“Well, what’re mine?” Adam asked, still not looking up.

“Greyish blue. Wait how did I know that? Shit, well, I know how I knew that. Your eyes are really fuckin’ pretty. But that’s beside the point. You have to look up at me sometime!” Tommy laughed.

“Fiiiiiine.” Adam laughed back then looked up at Tommy, “You have nice eyes too, ya know. Uh, I mean, yeah, paper. Lacey. Outline. We need to do that,” Adam said, blushing.

“Okay. So, as I asked earlier, what’s your main goal for the paper? Do you want to just analyze Lacey and then talk about the implications of her character, or do you want to take it further and analyze why the ranch girl treats Lacey like that?” Tommy asked, quickly bringing the subject back to the essay.

“Um, well, I kinda want to do both, I guess. So, my first main point could be, like, um, how sex is treated or talked about in ‘Ranch Girl,’ or something like that. And then the sub points are just the quotes from the story, and I guess I’d have to find those.”

“That’s a really good idea. You kinda have to set up why Lacey’s character is important before jumping into her analysis, so giving the context of how sex is treated makes it make more sense. If that made any sense,” Tommy laughed.

“Then my second point I guess would be about how Lacey is treated in the beginning of the story, then the implications of what that says about the ranch girl. And I’d have to find that stuff in the book and put the quotes and everything as the sub points as evidence. And then my third point is how she’s treated towards the end, like, when the ranch girl wants to burn the newspapers in front of her house and fight her and all that.”

“It seems like you have a pretty great idea about the direction you want to take your essay. Mind if I bring my chair over to that side so I can help you write out the outline and find the quotes in the book and stuff? It’s just kinda hard to do all that from across the table.” Tommy asked.

“Uh, no, that’s fine. Sure. Come on over,” Adam answered.

Tommy pulled his chair over next to Adam’s and gave him a smile. Adam ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “Okay, so you have the first part down, it seems like. So, the important part is gonna be the ending. You’ll have to answer ‘So what? Who cares?’ about Lacey and about how sex is treated in the story. You’ll have to communicate what it means for the story, and why it matters,” Tommy said.

“Okay. I don’t really know why it matters, though. I kinda thought about how the ranch girl had her mind set on how Lacey was such a slut, but she didn’t even know anything about her. Then at the end of the story, she ends up staying at the ranch and never leaving. It’s kinda like how a traditional mindset will trap you, but opening your mind sets you free, or whatever that cliché is,” Adam said, starting down at his book.

“That’s extremely good insight. That should definitely by your final point. I would suggest going through and highlighting or marking all of the quotes that support your thesis, then setting up your outline, then writing that paper. It’s gonna be really good if you put in the work. Seriously, I’m not supposed to say this because I’m your professor, but screw it, I’ve already done a shit ton of things I’m not supposed to do, but anyway, you always have the best insight as far as the stories go. You have a brilliant mind, Adam,” Tommy.

Adam looked up from his book and looked Tommy in the eyes, “Really?” Tommy answered something, but Adam was too transfixed on Tommy’s lips. “Is he really wearing lipgloss? Holy shit,” Adam thought to himself.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Tommy waved a hand in front of Adam’s face, “You’re just staring at my lips. Yes, I’m wearing lipgloss. Shit, I knew it was a bad idea.”

“What was a bad idea? The lipgloss? Because I really like the lipgloss,” Adam said, still staring into Tommy’s eyes.

“Really? How much?” Tommy asked mischieviously.

“I mean –.” Just as Tommy was leaning in, some guy bumped into his chair.

“Fags,” the guy said as he walked out the door.

Tommy jumped up to follow him and teach him the lesson of his life, but Adam grasped on to his arm like a vice.

“Adam? Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?” Tommy asked frantically.

Adam was frozen, already starting to hyperventilate. His grasp never left Tommy’s arm.

 “Let’s get out of here, okay?” Tommy said as he helped Adam up. He walked Adam to his car and they both got in the back seat. Tommy climbed in first, then helped Adam sit down in the car. Thankfully, they were both parked on the side of the coffee shop parking lot where it was a bit secluded. He shut and locked the doors, and Adam started to sob.

Tommy held him close to his chest and almost began to cry himself. He couldn’t stand to see Adam like this. “That guy saying the word ‘fag’ must have triggered him. Shit, it’s worse this time, too,” Tommy thought to himself as he ran his hand through Adam’s hair and rubbed up and down his arm trying to help him calm down.

“Adam, I’m right here. Nobody is going to hurt you. I’ve got you. Shhh, baby. It’s okay. You’re going to get through this. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you. I’m going to protect you. I’ve got you,” Tommy kept quietly repeating the same things over and over into Adam’s hair as he got through the panic attack. This one was lasting longer than the last one had, but after a while, it began to subside.

Adam’s breathing slowed down and he stopped shaking. He let go of his grasp on Tommy, then looked up at him, “I – I’m sorry. He just – he reminded me of –.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry or explain it to me. I understand. Just don’t think about it right now. I want you to calm down, take a deep breath. You’re okay.”

“Okay,” Adam said through the tears that were still running down his face, “Thank you so much, Tommy. Seriously. I just – I don’t know – I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you right now.”

“I know. I won’t ever let you down, Adam. I want you to get through this. You will get through this, whatever it is you’re going through, okay?” Tommy said as he wiped away the tears and black eyeliner running down Adam’s face.

“I want to get through it, too.” Adam said.

“Good. Now, I think I should drive you home, but that would leave your car here. Well actually that could work, we can just both go back to your place, you can chill out, calm down, ya know. Then when you’re good, I can drive you back here to get your car. You just aren’t in any condition to be driving or being alone right now. Okay?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I trust you,” Adam said.

“Mkay. You want to get in the front with me?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah,” Adam replied.

“Okay, I’ll get out and come around to help you up. Just stay put.” Tommy said. He got out and went to Adam’s side. He opened the door and gave Adam a hand. Adam seemed very weak after going through that awful panic attack. Tommy decided it was definitely best for him to drive Adam home and stay with him until he was okay again.

Tommy opened the passenger door for Adam, and Adam got in. Tommy shut his door then went to the driver’s seat. “You good, Adam?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, um, can you put some music on? I – I really don’t care what it is, I just need something to listen to to get my mind off everything,” Adam asked.

“Oh yeah, of course. I’ve got an Aerosmith CD in right now, so I hope that’s good. Tell me if it’s too loud,” Tommy said as he turned his radio on.

“Volume’s fine,” Adam said as he rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He took deep breathes and tried to concentrate on the music instead of the flashbacks he was having. He thought he’d escaped those memories when he moved out here, but apparently not. The thought made him tear up, but he held them back. He continued focusing on the song, when he heard Tommy quietly start to sing along.

“Lying close to you feeling your heart beating / And I'm wondering what you're dreaming / Wondering if it's me you're seeing / Then I kiss your eyes / And thank God we're together / I just want to stay with you in this moment forever,” Tommy sang softly.

Adam just listened with his eyes still closed and wondered if there was any truth behind those words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot thickens! I'll probably post the next one tomorrow because I can't wait to see where I take this plot either. I have quite a bit more planned, and there are a lot of hints to those plans in this chapter. I'll be interested to see who catches them. Hope you enjoy this one! It's a little bit longer than usual.
> 
> Happy reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: rape, attempted rape, sexual assault, attempted sexual assault

“Adam, you awake?” Tommy asked quietly.

“Hmm?” Adam replied opening his eyes.

“I know you live this way, but I don’t know how to get to your apartment. I kinda need directions,” Tommy said keeping his voice low.

“Oh yeah. I live just up here. Make a left at Orange Ave, then a right on Hibiscus. My complex is on the right. And, listen… Thanks for taking me home. I really wasn’t anywhere near up to driving right now.”

“Really, it’s no problem, Adam. We can talk later. You can shut your eyes and relax again if you want.”

Adam rested his head back again, but didn’t shut his eyes this time. He turned to look at Tommy. Just looking at Tommy helped him divert his mind from the dark places it kept going.

“We’re here. Where should I park?” Tommy asked.

“Right over there.” Adam said pointing to the left side of the parking lot.

Tommy parked then got out and went to Adam’s side of the car. He opened the door and offered Adam his hand. Adam took Tommy’s hand because he still felt weak and feeble. They went up to Adam’s apartment, and when they got inside, Adam went straight to his bed and buried his face in the pillows. Tommy took a seat on the opposite side of the room at Adam’s desk.

Adam rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his arm. He took a few shaky deep breaths. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Adam, you okay? I can tell that you’re thinking about something. Let’s do something to get your mind off it. Wanna watch some TV?” Tommy asked.

Adam shook his head. His chest was rising and falling rapidly now. Tommy went over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Adam. He took Adam’s hand in his and asked, “Are you okay? Is there something I can do?”

“No get off of me! Get away from me! Stop! Please! STOP! Somebody help me! Please, please, please. Just stop. Stop! Please stop! Don’t hurt me!” Adam sobbed as he pushed Tommy off the bed.

“Adam, it’s me, Tommy. I won’t hurt you. You’re okay. Adam, baby, it’s okay. Nobody is gonna hurt you,” Tommy said, trying to comfort Adam.

“No… Please just… Stop. Please,” Adam continued to mumble into his pillow.

“Adam. Adam. It’s me, Tommy. You’re in your apartment in Los Angelos, California. Nobody is hurting you. Nobody is going to hurt you. You are okay. I’m right here. I’m protecting you. Adam, can you hear me?” Tommy said in a calm, clear voice.

Adam snapped out of it and opened his eyes. He pulled his arms to his chest, and curled into the fetal position and continued crying into his pillows.

“Adam, is it okay if I come back up there? I want to help you. You’re gonna get through this. Can I just come sit on the bed next to you?” Tommy asked.

Adam nodded. His whole body was shaking, and he was hyperventilating. Tommy got up and sat next to Adam on the bed. “Adam. You have to take a deep breath. Focus with me. Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Just focus on that,” Tommy coached Adam through his breathing until he was close to normal. The tears were still falling, but Tommy didn’t expect for those to stop.

“Good job, Adam. Can you sit up? We need to focus on something else. Look at me. You are okay. You will get through this. We’re gonna get through this together.”

Adam sat up and looked at Tommy, tears still making tracks down his cheeks. “O – Okay,” Adam said feebly.

“Good. I just want you to calm down enough to talk to me. Okay? We can do this. Keep looking at me. Don’t focus on anything but me.”

“Okay,” Adam said, trying desperately to fight back his tears.

“Tell me about your favorite poem,” Tommy said, trying to get Adam’s mind on anything else.

“Um, I – I really don’t have one favorite. But, uh, I --,” Adam hiccupped, “I like modern poetry more than contemporary.” His tears started to subside.

“Have you ever read any of Billy Collins’s work? His are pretty funny,” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, I love the one about the straight jacket. What was it called…?” Adam asked himself.

“‘Embrace’?” Tommy answered.

“Yes. That’s the one. Oh, and what about ‘Flames’? I love that one,” Adam said with some of the light returning to his eyes.

“The one about Smokey the Bear burning down a forest? Oh my god, I lost my shit over that the first time I read it!” Tommy said, laughing.

They continued talking about poets and authors for what seemed like hours. They talked and talked until Adam was close to being his normal self again. They both talked and laughed until Tommy had to get up to go to the bathroom. When Tommy got back, Adam had a solemn look on his face.

“Are you gonna ask me?” Adam asked.

“Ask you what?” Tommy asked back.

“Why I freaked out…” Adam replied.

“Only if you want me to ask. We don’t have to talk about it. We probably will have to talk about it sometime, someday, but that’ll only be when you’re ready,” Tommy said back sympathetically.

“I want you to ask me because if you don’t… If you don’t, I’ll never have the guts to tell you,” Adam said.

“Okay. Adam, what happened to you that made you so upset today?” Tommy asked, taking both of Adam’s hands in his own.

Adam took a deep breath and shut his eyes, “The story starts back when I lived in New York. I was in high school, and I was a theater kid. I loved performing. But, being a guy in theater wasn’t looked upon very highly by the other students. Guys would call me that word that we got called today, and I just got bullied a lot in general. I wore makeup and dressed in black, and I was still in the closet back then. But anyway, fast forward to the summer right after senior year. I was in a band with a couple of other people; I sang the lead,” Adam stopped to take a few breaths then continued, “Well, one night… One night… We were playing at this bar. We performed, and we were really good from what I remember. After we finished, the other guys in the band wanted to get drinks, so we sat down at the bar. Then this guy… this guy, he bought us all drinks. He – he kept getting closer to me. And I was drinking, and I started to feel dizzy… He…” Adam’s voice trailed off and he started to cry.

“Adam, it’s okay. You can finish this another time. You don’t have to tell me the rest,” Tommy comforted.

“No – no I gotta do this now, Tommy,” Adam said before taking a deep breath and continuing, “He grabbed my arm and led me somewhere. I don’t even remember resisting at that point. When I realized what was happening, I started yelling and screaming for help, but it felt like nobody would ever hear me. I –I remember having my face up against a cold wall. Thank goodness my bandmates came looking for me. The guy ran, or at least that’s what they told me happened,” Adam said.

“Fuck. Adam, you don’t have to tell me anymore. I’m so sorry. I wish I could… I wish I could make it all go away. I want to help you through this,” Tommy said with tears in his eyes.

“A-And it didn’t even end there. I reported it to the police but they didn’t even give me the time of day. They didn’t believe me because ‘guys can’t get raped.’ Then the word spread pretty quickly about what happened, and people started blaming me and attacking me. Some people said I was asking for it, other people said I made it, other people just called me a – you know, and told me to get the hell out of Medina. That’s where I lived, by the way. It’s a really small town. Even my parents didn’t believe me. So, one night, I made a plan and decided to pack my stuff, get a plane ticket, and leave. I came here and got a scholarship and some financial aid for the college. My parents felt awful after I left, so they’re paying for my apartment as their form of an ‘apology,’ I guess. For the past three years, I’ve just been suppressing all of those memories. I came here to forget, but it still followed me, with all this anxiety and shit. I’m so fucked up. I don’t even know why you want to help me…” Adam said, putting his head in his hands.

“Adam, I want to help you more than anything in the world. But we have to remember that I’m still your professor. There are boundaries I have to keep. I know I’ve crossed a few already, and trust me, I am going to help you… It just can’t be like this. I want you to start seeing a therapist. We have a few on campus, and I think that will really help you. I want you to be better and stronger before anything happens between us. I don’t want to romanticize your suffering; besides, my comfort alone isn’t going to solve your problems. But, just, now that I know your issues run much, much deeper than just nervousness, you have to get professional help. I’m only saying this because I care more than I should, Adam,” Tommy replied.

“I – I know… I just… Just, promise me you’ll still be there when I’m better. Promise me you won’t forget about me,” Adam pleaded.

“Adam, I could never forget about you. We just have to separate this relationship at least until the end of the semester, and then longer if you need more time to recover. Before any of this, whatever this is between us, I want you to get better. I need you to get better, Adam,” Tommy said.

“I understand. I’ll go to the therapist. I want to get better. I just – I don’t know how I’ll be able to do it without you,” Adam said as he started to cry, again.

“That’s the thing, Adam,” Tommy said, pulling Adam into a hug, “You have have to do this on your own because if you’re depending on me the entire time, you won’t fully be getting better. You understand that right?” Tommy asked.

“I understand; I just wish it didn’t have to be that way. So no more meetings and no more of… this? On Friday, you’ll just be my professor again?” Adam asked, pulling back from the hug.

“I wish you didn’t even have to go through this, Adam. But you need to be strong. And, yes, I’ll just be your professor, but you heard my promise. You get better, and we’ll see what happens,” Tommy said as he got up off the bed, “You should go wash your face and have a glass of water so we can go get your car. I have to get going.”

“Okay,” Adam said as he got up to go to the bathroom. He washed off his face which was puffy and red from crying for so long. He fixed his hair and tried to muster up enough strength to be able to go get his car and drive home.

Tommy looked at himself in the mirror; he fixed his clothes and wiped under his eyes, then sat down and waited for Adam.

“You okay in there?” Tommy asked through the bathroom door.

“Yeah, um, just – just give me a minute,” Adam replied.

“Mkay,” Tommy said back.

“Alright. I think I’m good now. I’m ready,” Adam said when he came out of the bathroom.

“Alright, let’s go,” Tommy said.

They drove back to the coffee shop in silence, both of them knowing that this would have to be goodbye. When they arrived, they both got out of the car, and Tommy walked over to Adam.

“I guess we have to say goodbye now, right?” Adam asked sorrowfully.

“Yeah, I guess so. Goodbye, Adam. But, I’ll see you on Friday,” Tommy said as he turned to get back into his car.

“Goodbye, Tommy,” Adam said, “Wait – just one last thing. Can we –” Adam got cut off when Tommy turned around and pulled him in for a kiss. It was short, but full of emotion. It said everything that they were unable to communicate. When they pulled away, neither of them said a word. They each got into their cars and drove home in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was extremely difficult to write. I'm not writing from experience in this one, and hopefully I will never have to experience that, but it was still really difficult to write.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Adam got into his car and drove back home. He didn’t want to think about the upcoming days and weeks; he just wanted to focus on how Tommy’s lips felt against his own. It’d been so long since he’d kissed anyone. There had been on guy in high school, but that was it. This was the first time in a long time that a kiss had felt good and not terrifying. It was comforting. He wanted to hold on to that feeling. He knew because of that kiss that Tommy would be at the other end when he reached the finish.

He made it home and decided to take a hot shower. He didn’t want to take a bath and let himself stay on one thought for too long; instead, he wanted stimulation. He wanted to feel the water hit his skin and know that he was alive. He got in and turned the water up as hot as it would go. He leaned against the shower wall, and closed his eyes. He couldn’t help but imagine Tommy right in front of him. Thoughts of Tommy in the shower with him flooded his imagination. In his mind, Tommy was right there, leaning up against him, kissing him like he did earlier, slowly dropping to his knees. Adam let his mind continue to wander, to imagine. He didn’t want Tommy to go.

He let his hand softly graze against his thigh; he could feel how Tommy’s would feel against him. He slowly brought his hand closer and closer; the arousal building quickly. He wrapped his hand around his erection, and imagined Tommy’s mouth closing around him.           

“Fuck. Tommy,” Adam moaned as he stroked himself. He imagined Tommy’s tongue dragging along him, the way he’d look up at him, the noises he’d make. He started thrusting into his hand as if it were Tommy’s mouth. He sped up his movements and moaned loudly. He was rapidly getting closer. “Oh fuuuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Tommy!” Adam moaned when he came. He leaned his entire body back against the shower wall and exhaled. He breathed heavily and kept his eyes shut, not wanting to open them and accept that Tommy was gone.

Once he opened his eyes, he finished showering and got out. He sat in his towel thinking about everything for a long time. “Fuck, I just jerked off to Tommy. And he’s supposed to just be Professor Ratliff again? How the fuck am I supposed to manage that? He’s all that I ever want to think about. He was the only positivity I had. How am I supposed to do this alone?” Adam thought to himself.

As Tommy drove home, he turned his radio up until the car shook. He didn’t want to think about Adam, anything but what just happened. “Why the fuck did I kiss him? Fuck. What am I doing?” Tommy asked himself. On the ride home, he became more and more distressed. When he got home, he decided to break out the alcohol and try to forget.

“Worst weekend ever,” Tommy said as he downed a shot of vodka, “Fuuuck.” He put in a dvd of MASH episodes, and got into bed with his bottle. Before even an episode was over, half the bottle was gone, and so was Tommy. “Fucking shit. Why the fuck did I have to get so fucking obsessed over this guy? He’s just a guy! Like, fuck, man. I can’t do this. I’m crazy about him, and I just told him to stay the fuck out of my life until he’s better? Who does that? He needs somebody. I was supposed to be that somebody, and I just totally cut him off. I am such a dick,” Tommy slurred to himself as he took another shot.

When he finished off the bottle, he was crying into his pillow like a drunken mess. He got out his phone and wanted to call Adam, but knew he couldn’t form sentences if he tried, so he decided to text him. “Adam heeey im so sry im such an asshole,” He sent. “I miss you, please don’t hate me,” He sent another. “Adaaam why arent u txting baack,” “Baaabe,” “im so drunk,” “Adam hello pls forgive me,” “Fuck im sry ill leave u alone,” He kept drunk texting until he was crying over his phone.

“Fuck, Adam. Why aren’t you answering? I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I hope you forgive me. Why the fuck did I tell you we couldn’t have a relationship anymore? We didn’t even get to have one…” Tommy cried to himself. “Oh, oh fuck,” Tommy said as he began to get nauseas. He rushed over to the toilet and throw up what seemed like the entire contents of his stomach. He wished he had somebody to hold his hair.

“What the fuuuuuck,” Tommy groaned when he woke up. He held his head and slammed his eyes shut, “Fuuuuck what did I do?” Tommy peered at the clock through his hands; it was already noon. “Fuck, I have shit to do today, and I’m hung over as fuck. Goddammit,” Tommy said as he dragged himself out of bed to get some aspirin and an ice pack. Once he took some aspirin and put the cold ice pack against his forehead, he headed straight back to bed. “Oh fuck me. I drank the entire bottle of vodka? What else did I do last night?” Tommy asked himself when he found the empty vodka bottle under his covers.

Adam put on some boxers and got under his covers after thinking for far too long. Just as he was settling down, his phone lit up. “Who is texting me in the middle of the night?” Adam asked himself as he picked up his phone, “Tommy?” He read all of the texts and just decided to ignore them. “Why did he get so shitfaced and upset when he’s the one that told me we had to separate our lives for a while? Whatever. He’s drunk, and he realize what he did in the morning. I’ve already got this whole situation figured out in my mind; I don’t need to complicate things by texting him back. I think I actually do need to just break ties with him for a while so I can focus on myself,” Adam thought to himself as he turned his phone off and went to bed.

Tommy got out his phone, turned down the brightness, and then went on tumblr to scroll through his dash. He needed something to get his mind off his splitting headache. He checked his texts and calls to see if he missed anything from last night or this morning. “Oh fuck me. What did I do? I did not…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Masturbation and drunk texting? Of course! I just felt like the story needed something a little more fun than the heavy shit I've putting in the last few chapters so... this happened! Now you get to feel bad for sad, drunk Tommy. Way to be a shining example of how to deal with problems! 
> 
> Anyway, sorry I didn't upload sooner. I had a Bio 2 exam this morning, and I studied all weekend for it. I really like writing because it helps me chill out from all the stress that college gives me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Leave comments and criticisms if you want, they actually do help me out. Your encouragement keeps me writing! And your criticism makes my writing better.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Adam decided that he needed to go to the therapist that Tommy told him about. He knew if he didn’t go soon, he’d never make himself to go. He drove to the campus and nervously walked into the building where the therapy was offered. He walked up to the reception desk to sign in. “I – I didn’t make an appointment or anything,” He said to the girl at the desk.

“That’s fine. We take mostly walk-ins anyway. Go ahead in. Dr. Fischer can see you now,” the girl pointed at the door with Dr. Fischer’s name on it.

He took a deep breath before entering the office. They talked for about an hour. They spoke about his recent panic attacks. She gave him different techniques for getting through panic attacks when they do happen, and also ways to try to avoid them. Adam didn’t yet tell her about why he’d been having the panic attacks, but at least it was a start. She referred him to a psychiatrist who could prescribe medications if the therapy didn’t help enough, and told him to come back in a few days.

Adam left feeling a bit better, knowing that he had ways to get through his panic attacks, instead of just suffering through them. He knew that this was only the beginning, though. He knew that soon he’d have to relive his experience and talk about it again. He wasn’t ready for that, and didn’t know how to handle it.

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to deal with it. I just want to forget again, or even just live with the crippling anxiety. I don’t care! I can’t do this!” Adam screamed to himself once he got into his apartment. “Fuck, I can’t do this. I can’t – I can’t do it,” he said through harsh breaths. He knew he was about to have a panic attack, so he tried to think about the techniques he just learned, but it was too late. He started breathing heavily, and clutched at his phone. He wanted desperately to call Tommy. He wanted someone there to comfort him.

“I did not…” Tommy said to himself as he looked through the mass of text messages he had sent the night prior. “Oh come the fuck on. How drunk was I? Shit. He probably thinks I’m just some drunk asshole and didn’t mean a thing I said. I mean, I meant it when I said I wanted him to get better, but I… Fuck, I don’t know what I meant when I said all of that. I should call him and explain myself. But, I don’t even know how to explain myself! Why did I have to get into this and then fuck it up so royally?”

He took staggered breaths, and huddled onto the floor. Then, his phone rang. He pressed the answer button, but couldn’t find the strength to say anything. He just kept sobbing and turned on the speaker phone.

“Adam? Adam are you there?” Tommy said desperately into his phone, “Adam? Are you having another panic attack? Baby? It’s okay. I’m right here. Breathe with me. In through your nose and out through your mouth remember?” Tommy could here Adam on the other end, trying to do as he said. “Good. Now just keep doing that. Try and calm down before it gets worse, okay? We’re gonna get through this… I mean you, you’re gonna get through this.”

Adam nodded at his phone even though he knew Tommy couldn’t see or hear it. It was all that he could manage. He started to calm down. It was calming just hearing Tommy’s voice.

“Adam, are you okay? Babe, it’s okay. It’s almost over. Just breathe. Try to talk to me once you’ve caught your breath,” Tommy said quietly into the phone.

Adam took a few more breaths then tried to speak, “O – okay. T – Tommy…”

“Good, Adam. Keep breathing. Talk to me. What happened?” Tommy asked.

“I – I went to the uh, the therapist on campus. It was just over – overwhelming.” Adam said through shaky breaths. He knew he was lying, but he didn’t want to tell the whole truth. He didn’t want to tell Tommy how much he needed him.

“Did you get anything out of it while you were there?” Tommy asked.

“Y – Yeah, I uh – I learned different ways to avoid things like this – I mean the panic attacks and stuff, and ways to get through them.” Adam said, his breathing returning to normal.

“Good. I hope you can use them and start getting better,” Tommy said.

“Why’d you call?” Adam asked, sounding more like a statement rather than a question. He was starting to get annoyed by all of this.

“Uh… Fuck, I just wanted to explain those texts that I sent. I was really drunk that night. I, uh, I didn’t really mean any of it. I still want you to get better on your own, Adam. If it gets bad, you can call me, I suppose. But, still no house visits, none of that – whatever it was,” Tommy said.

Adam was silent.

“Adam? You’re okay right? I gotta go. I – I’m sorry,” Tommy quickly hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is short. I've been having a hard time just getting out of bed lately. I've been low. I feel weak, things get tough. Sometimes my knees can barely hold me up. (leave a comment if you get my reference.) But, really. I'll try to write a longer chapter, it's just been... a tough week, to say the least.


	10. Chapter 10

Adam hung up. He was confused and didn’t know how to feel anymore. “He calls me baby when he tries to comfort me, but then he  just wants nothing to do with me so I can ‘get better on my own.’ Maybe I’m better off giving up on that.” He didn’t know what he meant by “that,” whether he wanted to give up on Tommy, or just give up.

He went to the therapist once more the following week, but he seemed to be getting worse. The solitude wasn’t helping; he only felt more broken. He stopped going to his classes; he stopped studying; he stopped doing his homework. He began to give up. He felt the weight of the empty room around him as he started spiraling downward.

The next Friday, Tommy noticed that Adam was nowhere to be found. The paper was due that day, and he knew it wasn’t like Adam to miss a due date, no less miss class. Yet, he went about his normal routine and taught the class as usual. He wrote it off in his mind and thought that Adam probably got the flu or something. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t just the flu, and he feared it was something far worse.

A week of feeling the world come crashing down and not a soul there to help you can do more damage than one would ever expect – Adam learned that the unfortunate, hard way. Over that week of just giving up, Adam didn’t eat because nothing filled him. He didn’t sleep. He just wrote. He filled a notebook with depressing poems and notes about his feelings. He rewrote one particular note several different times, but decided in the end, it really didn’t matter what any of his writing said. Nobody would read it anyway.

Another Friday came and went, and still no Adam. Tommy decided to check if Adam had withdrawn from the class – he hadn’t. He just wasn’t showing up. Tommy’s stomach twisted into a knot, and fear built in his chest. He didn’t know what to do or think. He thought he was doing the right thing by protecting his job and distancing the relationship, but perhaps that was the worst decision of his life. He thought he’d reasoned with himself how it’d be better for Adam, but knew that he was making excuses for his own selfishness. It all came down to what he valued more – his job, or a life.

He decided that he needed to call Adam. He had to find out if he was just overreacting to his absence, or if his intuition was correct. So, Friday after class, when he got home, he dialed Adam’s number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Nothing.

“You’ve reached Adam Lambert, please leave a message after the beep.”

“Hey, Adam. You haven’t been class for two weeks, and I started to worry. It’s worrying me even more that you aren’t picking up the phone. Just, please call me and tell you’re okay. I thought you were doing better with the therapy and everything? Please just call me. I need you to be okay.” He hung up.

Tommy paced around his apartment going over in his head the different scenarios he’d come up with for why Adam wasn’t in class and why he didn’t answer. Each one was worse than the last, and he feared he wasn’t even close to how bad the situation had gotten. “I don’t even believe in a god, but goddammit, God, if he’s not okay… I don’t know what I’ll do. Please let him be okay,” Tommy prayed to nothing.

After pacing and pulling at his hair until his roots hurt, he decided to just drive to Adam’s apartment. He needed to know what was going on.

He drove as fast as he could. When he got there, he knocked lightly on the door at first. But when there was no answer, he knocked more loudly and leaned close to the door and said, “Adam, are you in there? I know you’re home. I saw your car out front. Please open the door.”

Still no answer.

He started banging on the door and shouted, “Adam please! You gotta let me in! I just know something’s wrong. Please let me in, Adam!”

He heard light footsteps coming toward the door. The person who opened the door was not Adam, it was a pale, disheveled version of Adam that Tommy had never seen and never wanted to see.

“Stop shouting,” Adam pleaded quietly, “my head hurts.”

Adam turned around and went back to his bed and curled into a ball on top of his sheets. Tommy followed him in disbelief of what he was seeing. Tommy closed the door behind him, and went and crouched beside Adam’s bed.

“Adam? What happened? Why are you… like this?” Tommy asked quietly, tears pooling in his eyes.

Adam didn’t answer.

“Adam, please talk to me. Please,” Tommy begged. He placed his hand on Adam’s head and soothingly ran his fingers through his hair.

“No.”

“Why, Adam? God, this all my fault,” Tommy broke down and cried into the side of Adam’s mattress.

Adam rolled over and faced Tommy, still not saying a word.

“How do I fix this, Adam? Please. I – I just don’t know what to do.”

Adam didn’t answer. He just stared blankly. He rolled back over, this time moving further toward the other end of the bed, leaving a large space between them. Tommy lifted his head off the edge of the bed and realized what Adam was trying to communicate to him.

He climbed into the bed and laid down next to Adam, but still kept a space between them. Adam reached back between them and took ahold of Tommy’s arm and wrapped it around his midsection and held his hand tight. Tommy scooted up against Adam’s back and held him tighter. Tommy heard what he thought was Adam beginning to sob. He gently kissed the back of Adam’s head and whispered into his hair, “I’m so sorry. I love you so much, Adam. We’re gonna fix this. It’s gonna be okay. I’m so sorry. It’s gonna be okay.” He kept whispering sweet nothings until he felt Adam’s breathing slow and knew he had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since the last update. I had a lot of shitty things happen in a short span of time, and then I just didn't feel like doing anything. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this. It took a bit of a darker turn this time around because my writing usually reflects myself (if you haven't noticed) and my life whether I mean to or not.
> 
> I promise to keep writing. I really do have so much planned for this story, and I love writing. It's just that, sometimes life gets really tough and you don't expect it...


	11. Chapter 11

It was only the afternoon when they’d curled up in bed together, but they stayed that way until morning. Tommy barely slept, just watched Adam’s chest rise and fall for most of the evening. Adam slept until nine the next day. Tommy felt him start to shuffle. Adam panicked when he woke up feeling an arm around his waist and a warm body against his back. He tried to roll over and pull away, but Tommy quietly whispered, “Adam, it’s me, Tommy. It’s okay. I came over yesterday, remember?”

Adam rolled over and faced Tommy. “Sorry. I guess I forgot, and I – I just didn’t know where I was for a moment there,” Adam whispered back.

“It’s okay, Adam. How ‘bout I go make us some coffee?” Tommy asked. Adam nodded. Still fully dressed from the day prior, Tommy got up and went to the bathroom before making a pot of coffee. He came back, shirt now untucked and a few buttons unbuttoned, with two mugs of coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked it so I made it the way I usually drink it – with a little sugar and a little creamer. I hope that’s okay.”

Adam took his mug and took a sip. “It’s perfect.” They both sat back against the headboard of Adam’s bed, Tommy keeping a little distance between them as he was still unsure of what Adam was comfortable with. Adam turned on the TV and flipped until it landed on America’s Next Top Model.

“Hmm… I wonder what else he watches on TV…” Tommy thought to himself as he took another sip of coffee.

Adam kept sipping his coffee and glancing back over at Tommy hoping he’d notice and get the hint. He was getting cold seeing as he was only in his boxers. Eventually Tommy took notice and scooted closer to Adam, pulling a blanket up over both of them, and wrapping his arm around Adam’s shoulder. They sat in silence until the episode ended and Adam turned the TV back off.

“Thanks,” Adam said quietly.

“Oh, no problem. I could see that you were cold,” Tommy replied hugging him tighter.

“Not for that. Well, I mean, thank you for that, but that’s not what… I mean thank you for being here. I thought you’d given up on me just as much as I had,” Adam said laying his head on Tommy’s shoulder. 

Tommy took both their coffee mugs and set them aside so he could further embrace Adam. “I wasn’t here when you needed me the most. I took off and cared more about my job than you. At least, I thought I did. I feel like I made everything worse.”

Adam looked up at Tommy, “I missed you.”

Tommy looked down at Adam and slowly leaned down, silently waiting or permission. Adam angled his chin up, and Tommy took that as permission and lightly brushed their lips together. It was comforting. Adam set his head back down against Tommy’s shoulder.

“I’m here now, and I won’t leave you,” Tommy said softly.

They sat like that for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. Adam inhaled deeply; he just loved the way Tommy smelled. It wasn’t of cologne or some strong scent, he just smelled like home, like something he could get used to. Then, Adam realized he hadn’t showered in a few days, no less gotten out of bed for anything other than using the toilet. Suddenly, he felt insecure. He started to panic a little. “He can probably smell me. Ugh, I’m disgusting. What do I even look like? Shit. I’m only in boxers! Dirty boxers! Ew. Oh my god,” Adam thought.

Tommy felt Adam’s heart begin to race and his breathing pick up, “Adam, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Um. I – I should – I need to um… Can we – I mean, can I get up and go take a shower? I feel disgusting. I’m sorry. It’s just that –”

“It’s fine, Adam. I don’t care how you smell. But, of course you can go shower. I’ll take one after you, in fact. If you don’t mind, I mean. I feel a bit gross myself,” Tommy answered getting up.

Adam felt more insecure as he got up. Tommy was still fully dressed from the day before, and he was still just wearing dirty boxers. He felt the sudden need to cover up or be out of sight, so he rushed into the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the shower to let it heat up, and took off his boxers and stepped in. He let the room steam up as he stood under the scorching spray of the shower. He took a deep breath and calmed down. A hot shower was usually enough to soothe his anxieties away. He let his racing thoughts go down the drain with the water and soap. He finished washing his hair and body, and after standing for just a bit longer under the hot water, he turned it off and stepped back out. He reached for a towel but found only the bar on the rack. “Shit,” he said aloud.

“You okay in there?” Tommy asked from where he sat across the room.

“Um. Yeah, I just – I forgot to bring in a towel. And clothes. Fuuuuuck me. Fuck. I mean just – goddammit!” Adam yelled back.

Tommy couldn’t help but smirk at that. He got up to look for a towel. “Um, where do you keep your towels?”

“In the linen closet on the left. There should be a few in there. I only need one. Found it yet?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Here they are. I’ll just hand you one if you open the door a bit.”

Adam opened the door and slid his hand out, and Tommy put the towel in it. “Thanks. Sorry about that. I should’ve gotten one before I went in.”

“That’s okay. But – um… What about clothes? I could find you some if you –”

“No – no! I mean, um… I’ll just come out and get dressed, and you can get in the shower while I get dressed out there.”

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll turn around while you come out of the bathroom if you feel uncomfortable about um – I – I won’t look at you. I’ll just go right in. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable at all.”

“Thanks. But, it’s okay. I – I don’t feel uncomfortable around you. You don’t have to turn around. I mean, unless you want to. I just – I’m coming out now.” Then Adam walked out of the bathroom, suddenly feeling exposed again. He clutched at his towel that was around his waist and rushed over to his dresser. Tommy quickly grabbed a towel and scooted into the bathroom as quickly as he could.

“Ho – ly – shit,” Tommy thought to himself once he got into the bathroom, “He’s like a god! How the hell is he so insecure? Even though he’s a little pale and sickly… He’s got a body. And dripping wet… Shit. I need to stop. What am I, fourteen?” He thought to himself as he undressed. “Oh my god, I am fourteen,” he said to himself as he looked down at the problem growing in his shorts.

“What?” Adam asked.

“Oh – uh, nothing! I was just talking to myself. I’m fine! Sorry!” Tommy yelled back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” Tommy muttered.

Adam heard his muttering but decided not to ask. He put on some sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt and sat back down on the bed.

Tommy, meanwhile, decided to take a cold shower. Once he was finished, he grabbed the towel he thankfully remembered to bring in. He dried off and realized he only had the clothes he’d been wearing. He decided it was stupid to put dirty clothes back on after taking the time to shower, so he left the bathroom with just the towel around his waist. 

“Hey, um, Adam? Can I barrow some pants and a shirt? I don’t really want to put my dirty stuff back on after showering. I should’ve thought of that before showering.”

“Yeah, I’ll get you some.” Adam said getting up. He brought Tommy a pair of sweatpants and an old band shirt, very similar to the ones he was wearing.

“Thanks,” Tommy said as he turned around and went back into the bathroom. He didn’t ask for boxers because he thought that’d be weird. He couldn’t barrow another guy’s underwear, but somehow it felt even more weird to put on another guy’s sweatpants without underwear. He looked in the mirror at himself. He had to roll them up because they were way too long. “I feel like you can see the outline of my dick straight through these. I wish I’d asked for underwear. Oh, just, fuck it,” Tommy thought as he put on the shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was long enough to cover his ass, so he didn’t feel so exposed anymore.

He walked out of the bathroom and sat next to Adam and downed the rest of his coffee. “You know, I never noticed how huge you are. I mean as in like, tall and stuff! Not, um, you know – I wasn’t referring to… Aw, fuck.” Tommy said blushing and covering his face.

“I know what you meant. My clothes are huge on you. I’m gigantic -- as in tall, of course,” Adam laughed.

“And, I didn’t mean, like huge fat, either. I meant like huge in stature. You’re not fat. You’ve actually got a really nice body. Not that I looked! I mean – shit. I’m awful at this,” Tommy sank further into his seat and blushed more.

“No. This is good. It feels normal. I haven’t had normal conversation in a while. You are bad at this though, but I’m horrible at it, too,” Adam laughed more.

“I’m not that bad at having a normal conversation, and neither are you. This counts as normal conversation right? It’s so good to hear you laugh, by the way,” Tommy replied.

“I guess this counts. And, it feels good to laugh. I want to get better,” Adam said, the tone turning a bit more serious.

“You will get better. We’re gonna do this together. I’ve been thinking about a plan to get through this, and I’ve come up with a few things. I still have to finish the semester teaching, but I only teach two days a week. The rest of the time, I’ll be here. You still have time to drop your classes without getting a W on your transcript, so I think, if you agree, you should drop your classes for this semester and focus on getting better.”

“Okay. I think that’s a good idea. I thought of that, too, but I feel like I’m giving up,” Adam said.

“It’s not giving up. You can always take those classes another semester. You’re just postponing them. Your health is waaaay more important. It’ll give you time to go to therapy more often, which I can go to with you if you want. And, we could, um, we could go to couple’s counseling if you want to. Not that we’re a couple yet or anything – I just, I thought that could help both of us. It could help me understand how to help you and be there for you.”

“Yeah. The therapy was helping while I was going, but I just – I couldn’t get out of bed and go anymore. I really do need somebody to help me through this. I just – I gave up.”

“I want to be that somebody to help you through this. And, we don’t have to put a label on – you know – whatever we are. I just want to be here for you. I don’t want to complicate things for you. We have all the time in the world for that. I’ll always be here for you,”

“Thank you so much, Tommy. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I – I was so lost while you were gone. I thought you hated me. I thought you were repulsed by me. I’m repulsed by me. What kind of person rewrites their suicide note a hundred times, then fails at the suicide part. What kind of person –”

“You tried to kill yourself?” Tommy interrupted.

“No – I mean, I guess. I took a bunch of pills, but I just threw them back up and passed out. It wasn’t enough. I’m even a failure at dying.” Adam said starting to tear up.

“Adam, baby. No. Look at me. You are perfect. I would never hate you. I would never be repulsed by you. You’re gorgeous. You’re funny. I love being around you. I never want to leave you. Please don’t ever do that again, Adam,” Tommy said, also starting to tear up.

“Then why did you leave? You left me. Why do you only call me baby when I’m broken? When I’m upset? Why do you say ‘let’s get couple’s counseling! But, wait, no we’re not a couple or anything’? Why do you constantly do this to me? I just want you to be here completely. I need all of you or nothing. If you really cared about me, you would have been here,” Adam said, the hurt showing on his face.

“I’m a selfish asshole. I let my job get in the way of you. I almost cost you your life. I admit it. I suck as a human being. I want to try now. I want to be here for you. You have to believe me. I’ll quit my job. I’ll move in with you. I’ll do whatever you want. If you want to be a couple, we’re a couple. I love you more than anything. I don’t know how this happened so quickly. I don’t know how we’ll make this work. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I just want you. I’m here now. All of me is here now. I’m not leaving.”

“You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got back from vacation. I meant to post before I left, but of course, that did not happen. I decided you guys deserved a bit of a longer chapter. So, here it is. Also, yes, that is a TFIOS reference at the end.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the first chapter of many. I have this all planned out, so there will be sexually explicit stuff later on down the road, and there will be a brief scene with attempted rape by an OMC... That's why I already put the tags with warnings; I don't want you guys to start reading it if it's something that's triggering to you, and then get to that scene and have to stop reading. So, if any of those things are triggering to you, I'd say go ahead and read something else. 
> 
> I have some pretty great ideas planned for this one. My friend Allie gives me the best prompts, and then the stories kind of just... write themselves!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this! I'm having fun writing and posting. It's cool to get feedback.


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